


Going Dutch

by TwoCatsTailoring



Series: The Lives Within [18]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Banter, Cor Leonis Week, F/M, First Date, Sort Of, breakfast date, date, idek it's just sorta ordinary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 08:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13567200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCatsTailoring/pseuds/TwoCatsTailoring
Summary: This whole 'date' thing is new territory for Cor. But maybe not as new as he thinks it is.





	Going Dutch

**Author's Note:**

> Cor needs a lobster to help him navigate dating. Fortunately, he has Monica instead. (She smells so much better.)

Bright and early took on various definitions around the Citadel. To the King, it meant being up and functioning like a human being at 6am. To the maids, it meant being at work and ready for their assignments at 7am. For the earliest daytime shift of Glaives, it was being in their positions at 6:30am. And for Cor Leonis, it meant hitting the pavement for his morning run no later than 4:45am. **  
**

That’s why the gate guard was scratching his head when he saw Leonis returning to the barracks at 4:30, only to leave again 30 minutes later, showered, changed, looking like a man on a mission. But there was no way in all of Eos that he would ask the man where he was going. Some things were just not worth risking your job over and curiosity about the activities of Cor Leonis was one of them. That man was terrifying. And that scowl….

If the gate guard had any idea of what that scowl was hiding at that particular moment, he likely would have been shocked at the least and probably dead from it at the worst. Because underneath that perpetual scowl and military bearing Cor was a nervous wreck.

Okay, maybe that was overstating it just a little bit. He didn’t have to be nervous at all. But he was. A little bit. More than a little bit. But not a lot. Just shy of a lot nervous then. This was the reason why he didn’t date much. Not that going on a date with Monica was really dating, at least, not by the general public’s standards.

Just look at the time they had agreed to meet. Who on Eos would go for breakfast at 5:15am on a Tuesday as a date other than the two of them? And who, other than the two of them, only had free time at 5:15am on this Tuesday for the next three weeks? Nobody but two members of the Crownsguard with very different roles in two related departments.

Also, this was Monica. One of the few people he could be around for hours on end without getting even slightly annoyed. Even Regis tried his soul on occasion. But Monica? Even when they were kids and she hated the ground he walked on, he didn’t really have a problem with her.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly the truth either but it wasn’t a problem. It was just childish competitiveness that had gotten way out of hand. Seriously out of hand. Now, if he ever saw anything like that on his watches in the Training Room, he’d bash a couple of heads together. Because they had been ridiculous to the point of causing actual injury to one another.

But in thinking about the past he was avoiding dealing with the present which was that he was one block away from Insomnia’s House of Waffles where they’d agreed to meet and he was still nervous. Within that block he didn’t manage to work out how not to be nervous, so he had to accept it for what it was.

Finding Monica in the dining room wasn’t hard this early in the morning and he wondered, mildly panicked, what an appropriate greeting would be. Eight weeks earlier they’d been playing tonsil hockey on a balcony in Tenebrae, but the exit of the Lucian party had been both hasty and bloody, their return home landing them both in a whirlwind of chaos and way more paperwork than anyone had a right to suffer under. So of course, there’d been no repeat performance.

He wasn’t even thinking beyond a low-level hum of internal fretting when he leaned down and pecked her cheek before sliding into the seat across from her.

“Oh, that’s a nice greeting,” she said, scrubbing a hand over one eye. “I’m definitely awake now.”

He wasn’t sure yet if she was joking or not but at least her voice was light. As light as it could be, given the circumstances. “Hard drive back?”

“You could say that.” The server interrupted her to deliver two cups of coffee and a pile of creamers to the table. Cor nodded his thanks and Monica went on as the server walked away, “It is a long, boring drive back from Cleinge. And you know I can’t sleep in a car.”

Cor would have liked to ask her what they found, would have liked to grill her right then and there on the results of her reconnaissance in Cleigne, but he didn’t. They didn’t talk shop in public and this was supposed to be a date after all. He dumped several artificial creamers into his cup and liberally applied sugar before taking a sip, “At least you’ve made it back. I’d hate for you to have been late for our first date.”

Monica snorted softly into her cup and shook her head, “But it’s not the first.”

Cor knitted his brows together, “What do you mean, not the first?”

“That this isn’t our first date,” she shrugged.

This made no sense. They hadn’t talked about this at all prior to the whole kissing thing in Tenebrae and since then, there’d been no time for dates. Hell, just finding a minute alone in an elevator last week to ask her out had been a miracle.

His thoughts must have registered on his face because she sighed, opening her mouth to explain only to be interrupted again by the server, coming to take their order. Once that was done and the server gone, she began.

“Back in the spring, we went to dinner together. To Siren’s?”

“That wasn’t a date,” Cor frowned. Was it? Who’d asked who?

“Yes it was. It was just the two of us and we didn’t talk about work,” she countered with a smile. “Then, we went to the Summer Harvest street fair.” She paused, her cup hiding a small smile, “Did you ever get the berry cordial out of your shirt-sleeve?”

Cor blinked. That hadn’t been a date either? No, surely not, she’d only asked him to go with her because they were both going anyway. Sharing the cab had made sense. “That wasn’t a date either.”

Monica raised her eyebrows and looked as mild as milk, but he knew that look. He hadn’t worked with her for most of their lives to not learn that look. “Well, it wasn’t. Not to me.”

She blinked and tried to hide her smirk, “I’m wounded. Then what about the Crownsguard ball two weeks before we left for Tenebrae?”

“That wasn’t a date either. We didn’t even show up together,” he pointed out, trying not to grin. “I had no idea you had such an active imagination.”

“We didn’t have to show up together because you asked me to dance with you four times and I agreed every time.”

“Dancing doesn’t make a date,” he countered, tapping a fingertip on the table.

“It does if we both ignored everyone else in the room the whole night.”

Cor was going to argue but was saved from immediate embarrassment by the arrival of their plates, loaded with eggs, bacon, sausages, and fluffy golden biscuits with a side of waffles for each of them - blueberry for her and chocolate chip for him.

“You know,” he said around a bit of bacon, “I’ve never understood where you put everything you eat.”

“You did not just call me fat,” she snickered, buttering a biscuit.

“No, I….” Oh shit.

“Nor did you just imply that I am short.”

“I would never do such a thing,” Cor assured her seriously. The last person who called her short had ended up flat on his back, groaning.

“Then what exactly are you saying?” As mild as ever, a small smile on her face, giving him just enough rope to hang himself with. Thank the Astrals she wasn’t boring.

“I’m only trying to say that after living off of cold canned food for a week, you must be famished.” He congratulated himself for that recovery because yes, he was honestly very confused by the fact that she could seemingly eat non stop for four days and never seem to gain or lose any weight. Plus, she was really short. Where did it all even go?

Monica’s lips worked hard not to smile and ultimately failed. “You really are the worst, Leonis.”

He chuckled with relief. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Can’t make small talk, can’t lie, can’t navigate….”

“Hey,” he countered, “I know how to lie. And that navigation thing was one time.” Her laughter was probably going to be his new favorite sound. “You recovered,” he pointed out, helpfully.

The rest of the meal was shared in a comfortable flow of conversation and mild-mannered arguing over shared events from their past. Cor wasn’t sure he’d laughed so much in one sitting for years. Once it was over, well fed and the bill paid - split, by her insistence - and they headed back in the direction of the Citadel, Monica’s jaw was all but cracking with the force of her yawns.

And Cor got nervous again. He’d almost managed to forget that he was nervous in the first place - she really was a lot better at small talk and conversation than he was, Bahamut bless her - but he’d never been faced with walking someone home to the same building he lived in.

Just one floor off from his.

And at about the same point in the hall.

But, they were at her door. A lot sooner than he was ready for. Cor was pretty sure, even in his limited experience, that this was the part where he kissed her good night (or morning. It was only half-past six.) And that was all fine, well, and good except for the part where she pulled away from the kissing sooner than he expected to yawn again.

“Glad to know I’m sure stimulating company,” he said, tucking a wisp of her hair behind her ear.

“I’d invite you in to stimulate something else,” she replied, “but you don’t seem like the type of guy who puts out on the first date.”

“But you said this wasn’t our first date.”

“I did, didn’t I?” she mused.

Cor dipped his head in and kissed her again before reluctantly letting her go. “You need to sleep,” he pointed out, “And I don’t think my ego could take you passing out on me.”

“So fragile,” Monica teased, her jaw making a grinding noise as she yawned again. “If you’ve got some time this afternoon, I’ll be up around three.”

Cor started to reply but she cut him off.

“The fire escape is the quickest way down, by the way.” Monica rubbed her eyes again, popped up on the tips of her toes to kiss him one last time before disappearing into her rooms, leaving him staring at the 313 on her door.

It took him a moment to register what she’d said, and after a quick run up the stairs and down the hall to his quarters, he realized exactly what she meant. The fire escape was a straight shot between his room (413) and hers.

It took him only a half an hour to rearrange his afternoon accordingly.


End file.
